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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cHRXo7fyp7ImA9WhRaEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589</id><updated>2012-02-12T22:30:34.407-07:00</updated><title>Our Life...</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>743</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/MduDD" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/mdudd" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YGQH4ycCp7ImA9WhRaEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-2522354290809642681</id><published>2012-02-12T16:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T16:58:41.098-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-12T16:58:41.098-07:00</app:edited><title>A video just for fun!</title><content type="html">This just makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I really like the song.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="366" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/36659824?title=0&amp;amp;byline=0&amp;amp;portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="651"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
the song is "It's Real" by Real Estate&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-2522354290809642681?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4Q1uhJteZwvQgIVmxp3DTPAyDl0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4Q1uhJteZwvQgIVmxp3DTPAyDl0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/W922HVUepxg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/6462518719630860835/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=6462518719630860835&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6462518719630860835?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6462518719630860835?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/W922HVUepxg/beautiful-florida-beach.html" title="Beautiful Florida Beach" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6MN2rYB7shE/TzdNA9Mk4SI/AAAAAAAAGe8/HrD0hZQgVw0/s72-c/DSCN5505.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/beautiful-florida-beach.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcGR389eip7ImA9WhRbGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-3077525864082165117</id><published>2012-02-09T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T21:27:06.162-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-09T21:27:06.162-07:00</app:edited><title>... it happens, even on vacation...</title><content type="html">We went to a really cool park yesterday, one of the coolest ones I have ever been to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jtWOhd-mD_I/TzSa3guldxI/AAAAAAAAGds/5Ku26SHnOlk/s1600/DSCN5427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jtWOhd-mD_I/TzSa3guldxI/AAAAAAAAGds/5Ku26SHnOlk/s640/DSCN5427.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dcq8VbjnOHY/TzSbD627XwI/AAAAAAAAGeE/s1PFlAwpE2U/s1600/DSCN5444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dcq8VbjnOHY/TzSbD627XwI/AAAAAAAAGeE/s1PFlAwpE2U/s640/DSCN5444.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or so I thought until a bird pooped on my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yup, right on my head,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
that splattered on my camera,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
that splattered on my thumb,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
that splattered on my shirt,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
and, of course, down my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wnDQb0Rjlzw/TzScOY2cxiI/AAAAAAAAGe0/exIwovENklM/s1600/DSCN5448b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="454" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wnDQb0Rjlzw/TzScOY2cxiI/AAAAAAAAGe0/exIwovENklM/s640/DSCN5448b.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I don't think the park was cool anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My kids had fun though.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And later we went to the pool and the beach so I am still having a great time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was really windy at the beach so we had a great time flying kites.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xSoc2tnUkb4/TzSbJaEbSFI/AAAAAAAAGeM/1N2hobjylo0/s1600/DSCN5451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xSoc2tnUkb4/TzSbJaEbSFI/AAAAAAAAGeM/1N2hobjylo0/s640/DSCN5451.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BHz5ap_8DgQ/TzSbdJQGPLI/AAAAAAAAGes/IbMFgzyWHw4/s1600/DSCN5488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BHz5ap_8DgQ/TzSbdJQGPLI/AAAAAAAAGes/IbMFgzyWHw4/s640/DSCN5488.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-3077525864082165117?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rvohdVMZy52kE6LfgYKcN1xfGkQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rvohdVMZy52kE6LfgYKcN1xfGkQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/bS-LVGOGXxs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/3077525864082165117/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=3077525864082165117&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/3077525864082165117?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/3077525864082165117?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/bS-LVGOGXxs/it-happens-even-on-vacation.html" title="... it happens, even on vacation..." /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jtWOhd-mD_I/TzSa3guldxI/AAAAAAAAGds/5Ku26SHnOlk/s72-c/DSCN5427.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-happens-even-on-vacation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08NR307eSp7ImA9WhRbF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-3080525085686531767</id><published>2012-02-08T21:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T05:18:16.301-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-09T05:18:16.301-07:00</app:edited><title>A Vacation from The Vacation</title><content type="html">&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V5CKUI_bj4U/TzNErOKcIeI/AAAAAAAAGdU/rOzlk6wUvHg/s1600/DSCN5398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V5CKUI_bj4U/TzNErOKcIeI/AAAAAAAAGdU/rOzlk6wUvHg/s640/DSCN5398.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Isn't Li'l Mr just so cute! It has been so fun getting to know him.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jAP24ztkETs/TzNEu_6TvMI/AAAAAAAAGdc/a-7w9eF8wXo/s1600/DSCN5401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jAP24ztkETs/TzNEu_6TvMI/AAAAAAAAGdc/a-7w9eF8wXo/s1600/DSCN5401.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Daniel and Tynelle live at an amazing resort and we just have a blast everyday!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dXV7I3aEN44/TzNEya6nyQI/AAAAAAAAGdk/xbR5iPILFeg/s1600/DSCN5414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dXV7I3aEN44/TzNEya6nyQI/AAAAAAAAGdk/xbR5iPILFeg/s640/DSCN5414.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;In fact we have so much fun that it really wears some of us out...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;You know I have to say that the kids have been doing great considering, but I do have to say that Sister does have the hardest time. It breaks my heart to see her come apart during transition points from one activity to the other. We make it through with different techniques so it isn't unbearable. It just really hurts my heart knowing that she is dealing with so much. My brother-in-law, Joel sent me a link to &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNZVV4Ciccg&amp;amp;feature=share" target="_blank"&gt;this video&lt;/a&gt;. I had seen it before and I have even read the blog a few times, but watching it again really rang true some of the feelings that I know Sister goes through. I am so proud of her for doing as well she does, she amazing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know how when you get home from your vacation you really need another vacation to recuperate from your vacation... I wish that Sister had the capability of taking a vacation from her anxieties of vacation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe her naps with Dad are as close as she'll get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-3080525085686531767?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2h3rks2khNoWvdtSeKqWvlnsoRc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2h3rks2khNoWvdtSeKqWvlnsoRc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/3jNQwR3gdls" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/3080525085686531767/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=3080525085686531767&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/3080525085686531767?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/3080525085686531767?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/3jNQwR3gdls/vacation-from-vacation.html" title="A Vacation from The Vacation" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V5CKUI_bj4U/TzNErOKcIeI/AAAAAAAAGdU/rOzlk6wUvHg/s72-c/DSCN5398.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/vacation-from-vacation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4ERXkzfCp7ImA9WhRbF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-3586269016318003455</id><published>2012-02-08T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T14:35:04.784-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-08T14:35:04.784-07:00</app:edited><title>Florida Ear Muffs?</title><content type="html">Just pictures and captions today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TvQ0STXFBIs/TzLoDI-CS6I/AAAAAAAAGcs/I5EMUcDviQU/s1600/DSCN3076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TvQ0STXFBIs/TzLoDI-CS6I/AAAAAAAAGcs/I5EMUcDviQU/s640/DSCN3076.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The pool at the resort has all of us smiling, but I have to say that Baby loves it the most.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XylkICMa-ac/TzLoGCURk8I/AAAAAAAAGc0/ejEhzZ6ylSM/s1600/DSCN3090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XylkICMa-ac/TzLoGCURk8I/AAAAAAAAGc0/ejEhzZ6ylSM/s640/DSCN3090.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Brother having a "whale" of a time...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PIfQXMo7WcU/TzLoKoGhUfI/AAAAAAAAGc8/IiUsPfOQN3o/s1600/DSCN3096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PIfQXMo7WcU/TzLoKoGhUfI/AAAAAAAAGc8/IiUsPfOQN3o/s640/DSCN3096.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;And even though we are on vacation, Sister's anxiety is not. This is me giving her some pressure input to help calm her through it. Popo and Brother are in the background. (The old lady off the right of me is just funny.)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u2_VFXt3jDA/TzLoQ30cxYI/AAAAAAAAGdE/GBCZdExe9gw/s1600/DSCN3109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u2_VFXt3jDA/TzLoQ30cxYI/AAAAAAAAGdE/GBCZdExe9gw/s640/DSCN3109.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was raining that night when we planned on going to the pier so we just walked the awesome downtown main street and went to get some amazing ice cream, Berry and Popo can attest to that.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JyeajkbpZF4/TzLoVGACt2I/AAAAAAAAGdM/gbSeFFyUZ3o/s1600/SSPX0761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JyeajkbpZF4/TzLoVGACt2I/AAAAAAAAGdM/gbSeFFyUZ3o/s1600/SSPX0761.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;And last, but not least, we went to a little gift shop near the ice cream parlor and they had ear muffs that, no doubt, would keep you ears warm.... but, we're in Florida... not Utah... but, hey, these Mickey Mouse size ear muffs made for a great pic.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-3586269016318003455?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w5UiqLcFlmSCyqcPH8BB18ul1Iw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w5UiqLcFlmSCyqcPH8BB18ul1Iw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/ffhWW_HG1m4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/3586269016318003455/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=3586269016318003455&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/3586269016318003455?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/3586269016318003455?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/ffhWW_HG1m4/florida-ear-muffs.html" title="Florida Ear Muffs?" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TvQ0STXFBIs/TzLoDI-CS6I/AAAAAAAAGcs/I5EMUcDviQU/s72-c/DSCN3076.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/florida-ear-muffs.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08CQHczcCp7ImA9WhRbFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-7270731327660586160</id><published>2012-02-06T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T20:37:41.988-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-06T20:37:41.988-07:00</app:edited><title>Here's a Secret...</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6oZBzRisA/TzCXVkUf_wI/AAAAAAAAGb8/F52Ug2_pP5w/s1600/IMG_0984.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6oZBzRisA/TzCXVkUf_wI/AAAAAAAAGb8/F52Ug2_pP5w/s640/IMG_0984.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's no secret we are on vacation! I thought this would be the perfect picture to show off my vacation in Florida—sipping from a coconut.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The kids are all so excited to see each other. Brother and Popo are quite the pair and Sister and Berry are inseparable. Baby has been trying to get their new baby, Mr, to be her friend but, he's just a little to young...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gK4GIL-3Q1U/TzCXU0aZm4I/AAAAAAAAGb0/BOd-XmTdizI/s1600/SSPX0746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gK4GIL-3Q1U/TzCXU0aZm4I/AAAAAAAAGb0/BOd-XmTdizI/s640/SSPX0746.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was a good day to take a walk on the beach. It was overcast and 75 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We went to a&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; secret beach&lt;/span&gt; only the locals know about and it was a beautiful place! We are hoping to go back there several more times while we are here. The kids didn't want to leave and Baby was loving the water. We certainly didn't bring enough bags for all the shells everyone collected, but pockets and hands worked just fine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I decided not to bring my Sony camera and I was sad because of the beautiful photo opportunities at this particular beach but our Nikon Coolpix, iPod, and Phone have been doing great for documenting our experiences.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bmTpdc1YsO8/TzCWowbYV1I/AAAAAAAAGaU/cMFnSfj9aNY/s1600/DSCN5329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bmTpdc1YsO8/TzCWowbYV1I/AAAAAAAAGaU/cMFnSfj9aNY/s640/DSCN5329.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ik_CCp4LJK4/TzCWspzWWnI/AAAAAAAAGac/jEojc5s-hBc/s1600/DSCN5330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ik_CCp4LJK4/TzCWspzWWnI/AAAAAAAAGac/jEojc5s-hBc/s640/DSCN5330.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ycf4TXrccIM/TzCW_R6jX5I/AAAAAAAAGbM/gST_WPML5jQ/s1600/DSCN5347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ycf4TXrccIM/TzCW_R6jX5I/AAAAAAAAGbM/gST_WPML5jQ/s640/DSCN5347.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QNmac8gu6d8/TzCXbFu0tZI/AAAAAAAAGcU/7_YEflCrxPc/s1600/SSPX0753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QNmac8gu6d8/TzCXbFu0tZI/AAAAAAAAGcU/7_YEflCrxPc/s640/SSPX0753.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yk9YobNgtkve8NTHhSlPygq5cqE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yk9YobNgtkve8NTHhSlPygq5cqE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/V96vHxRQ7JA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/7270731327660586160/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=7270731327660586160&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/7270731327660586160?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/7270731327660586160?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/V96vHxRQ7JA/heres-secret.html" title="Here's a Secret..." /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6oZBzRisA/TzCXVkUf_wI/AAAAAAAAGb8/F52Ug2_pP5w/s72-c/IMG_0984.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/heres-secret.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8ERH04eSp7ImA9WhRbFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-8886517120334686539</id><published>2012-02-05T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T19:53:25.331-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-05T19:53:25.331-07:00</app:edited><title>Carry-ons and Chickens</title><content type="html">We got to the airport and Baby thought she would make sure she was small enough to be a carry-on...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gkF7Jroxbuk/Ty8_jc-HQGI/AAAAAAAAGZ0/SwpAnA-KGP8/s1600/SSPX0745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gkF7Jroxbuk/Ty8_jc-HQGI/AAAAAAAAGZ0/SwpAnA-KGP8/s1600/SSPX0745.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The kids did SO well on this flight. I think they are starting to understand how this works.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We did have a few break-downs which included throwing of shoes, food, and darting through complete strangers during our lay-over but after some rocking, cuddling and book reading we gained control of the situations.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-96Kv9LBoeZU/Ty8_j_5XuII/AAAAAAAAGZ8/IHiuROkDiWs/s1600/IMG_0981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-96Kv9LBoeZU/Ty8_j_5XuII/AAAAAAAAGZ8/IHiuROkDiWs/s640/IMG_0981.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We even saw &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyle_Lovett" target="_blank"&gt;Lyle Lovett&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.listal.com/luis-guzman" target="_blank"&gt;Luis Guzman&lt;/a&gt;... not together, but separately in separate places... anyway, we got a far away picture of Lyle (he's to the left of the photo shaking the soldiers hands) but I had my hands full when I saw Luis.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MYCzJv6jIag/Ty8_kWVYD-I/AAAAAAAAGaE/LAQ0PlAuPzk/s1600/IMG_0982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MYCzJv6jIag/Ty8_kWVYD-I/AAAAAAAAGaE/LAQ0PlAuPzk/s640/IMG_0982.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, we got in late and it took a while to get our rental car (the rental car, a minivan, is the highlight of Brother and Sister's vacation).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ag3SHUwMFXs/Ty8_oJ6pQ4I/AAAAAAAAGaM/wB5_yuugA98/s1600/DSCN5324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ag3SHUwMFXs/Ty8_oJ6pQ4I/AAAAAAAAGaM/wB5_yuugA98/s640/DSCN5324.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Finally we got to my brother's house and we were so happy to see them! It was so exciting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Daniel was talking about how well we did packing lightly and I said, proudly, "Ya we only had one check-in."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Daniel looked at me kind of funny and asked,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"You only had one &lt;i&gt;chicken&lt;/i&gt;?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ah, the English language leaves so much to be interpreted...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-8886517120334686539?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aMCI5GTIKytCpLoGseUon28C4ZQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aMCI5GTIKytCpLoGseUon28C4ZQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/8P-pwdaOEuE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/8886517120334686539/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=8886517120334686539&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/8886517120334686539?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/8886517120334686539?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/8P-pwdaOEuE/carry-ons-and-chickens.html" title="Carry-ons and Chickens" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gkF7Jroxbuk/Ty8_jc-HQGI/AAAAAAAAGZ0/SwpAnA-KGP8/s72-c/SSPX0745.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/carry-ons-and-chickens.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIAQnY8fip7ImA9WhRbE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-1178660978407640164</id><published>2012-02-04T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T00:29:03.876-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-04T00:29:03.876-07:00</app:edited><title>Way back at Christmas this was funny</title><content type="html">You'll have to watch &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egCeIwjIuZM" target="_blank"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; to really get how funny the following picture is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And you may still not think it is funny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, it is funny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My parents are quite creative with their gifts every year, but this one just has to be the most memorable.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why am I posting it now?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because my dad just barely had me download his camera images and there they were, I just had to post it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7OBZXsQYcKE/Tyzd6nb8dLI/AAAAAAAAGZs/y1yfMkboOfE/s1600/DSCN3063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7OBZXsQYcKE/Tyzd6nb8dLI/AAAAAAAAGZs/y1yfMkboOfE/s640/DSCN3063.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-1178660978407640164?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OpkeEUbAxovytgsq2yYCKf5pyXc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OpkeEUbAxovytgsq2yYCKf5pyXc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/lbxxXvx4U4A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/1178660978407640164/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=1178660978407640164&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/1178660978407640164?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/1178660978407640164?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/lbxxXvx4U4A/way-back-at-christmas-this-was-funny.html" title="Way back at Christmas this was funny" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7OBZXsQYcKE/Tyzd6nb8dLI/AAAAAAAAGZs/y1yfMkboOfE/s72-c/DSCN3063.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/way-back-at-christmas-this-was-funny.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcMQ3w-eip7ImA9WhRbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-4975816628279818614</id><published>2012-02-03T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T00:11:22.252-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-03T00:11:22.252-07:00</app:edited><title>The Long and Short of It</title><content type="html">So back in November of 2011 is when we first saw the home we felt was for us when we decided to move closer to Marc's work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we walked into the house to see it for the first time we met the Listing Realtor. He thought we looked familiar and after a quick reminisce we realized that Marc had taught him as a young man in Scouts and Church. We hardly recognized him but it was exciting to see him again and do some catching up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We made an offer on the home that day, which we had been informed was a short sale. We had no idea what that meant, but, hey, sounded like the cheapest way to get a decent home... so we were all in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was a real blessing that the listing realtor knew us because we were not the highest or best offer but, he was able to lobby for us and we ended up with the chosen offer from the seller.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had been told it could take months, even up to a year to close on a short sale so we figured we should put our house up for sale now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One week later our house was sold.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had no prospect of our new home going through so we planned to move in with my parents.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So the new year brought on new adventures.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Shortly after moving into my parents we were informed that the original listing realtor for our house was turning the listing over to an agent who specialized in short sales. We were basically starting over, it sounded like so we just thought well, I guess we'll be here awhile so let's go see my brother in Florida. Soon after booking our flights we started hearing good things that made it sound like maybe the bank would start looking at our offer on the house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then last week we got a call that the house was set to go on auction this week and that the new listing agent was working on getting the auction date changed so that we still had a chance at the short sale.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2 days ago we heard back that the auction date had been moved to March 15th which meant that if the bank accepted our offer we would need to close before that date.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday we made sure all our loan pre-approval was good to go again and updated with new info so that we were ready and the bank knew we had the funds for the home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today we got the news that the bank sent us a counter offer. Which, to us, is great because that means we actually have them looking at our offer. They accepted our price and we just had to adjust the terms.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We signed the papers and we are just waiting to hear back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, while until the banks get to the short sale it is just wait, wait, wait. But as soon as they approve our offer it is hurry, hurry, hurry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know with all my heart that all these things have happened for a reason. Heavenly Father is really watching over us and you can see his hand in everything that has been taking place. It is faith building.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And that, my friends is the &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; l&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; o&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; n&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; g &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; and&amp;nbsp; short&amp;nbsp; of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-4975816628279818614?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ENNSBK6zbJH6KOTc1dk3SQrIL-Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ENNSBK6zbJH6KOTc1dk3SQrIL-Q/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ENNSBK6zbJH6KOTc1dk3SQrIL-Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ENNSBK6zbJH6KOTc1dk3SQrIL-Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/1SneAKz_-v8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/4975816628279818614/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=4975816628279818614&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/4975816628279818614?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/4975816628279818614?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/1SneAKz_-v8/long-and-short-of-it.html" title="The Long and Short of It" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/long-and-short-of-it.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4CR346eCp7ImA9WhRbEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-2717378082949532558</id><published>2012-02-01T23:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T23:09:26.010-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-01T23:09:26.010-07:00</app:edited><title>What would a pretty girl have said?</title><content type="html">So I was able to stand upright for a total of 10 hours yesterday and was crazy enough to try some grocery shopping in between that time. I even got ready for the day because I was so excited to wear something besides my pajamas and greasy hair.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was wandering through the store in a daze wondering why I thought I was well enough to go shopping (let alone drive there) feeling green and gurgly. (Yes, I said gurgly... my stomach has not been normal for a few days now and it will let everyone within 3 feet of me know it.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, a middle-aged man, a little heavy set, but average looking approached me cautiously and said, "You probably don't want to hear this..." at this second I am looking around to see if my children are hanging on something or knocking over a display and then I realize I am alone and turn back to him as he finishes with, "but, you are so gorgeous."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
???&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My reply was, "Wow! Thanks! That was very nice to hear. Thank you."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He walked away and I was standing there amidst my own stupification (did I just make up a word?) wondering why he would say that to me and then my thoughts went to what he said at the beginning... "You probably don't want to hear this."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why would he say that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What woman does not want to hear that she is a gorgeous person?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe the pretty girls hear it all the time and it gets old... I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took it as quite a compliment and it took me from green to pink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-2717378082949532558?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sM_KwZdZMx6GXEc7BzMafHFkPnE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sM_KwZdZMx6GXEc7BzMafHFkPnE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sM_KwZdZMx6GXEc7BzMafHFkPnE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sM_KwZdZMx6GXEc7BzMafHFkPnE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/GcK8nM4Z1dY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/2717378082949532558/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=2717378082949532558&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/2717378082949532558?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/2717378082949532558?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/GcK8nM4Z1dY/what-would-pretty-girl-have-said.html" title="What would a pretty girl have said?" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/02/what-would-pretty-girl-have-said.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUFQn8-eCp7ImA9WhRUGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-1922789956672130127</id><published>2012-01-31T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T00:00:13.150-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-31T00:00:13.150-07:00</app:edited><title>I've been sick all day...</title><content type="html">so I don't have a clever title, just some random pictures of goings-on around here&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nRkZ0tTum5s/TyeM0TyD9-I/AAAAAAAAGY0/I_6ni-F7wR4/s1600/DSC03206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nRkZ0tTum5s/TyeM0TyD9-I/AAAAAAAAGY0/I_6ni-F7wR4/s640/DSC03206.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My mom has so much hair that Brother has to help her out with a second blow dryer. He loves this chore.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wb_JSaoFZ-c/TyeNZbdKr2I/AAAAAAAAGY8/WlrrsUDTv3M/s1600/DSC03210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wb_JSaoFZ-c/TyeNZbdKr2I/AAAAAAAAGY8/WlrrsUDTv3M/s400/DSC03210.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sister found a spider man mask in the dressups&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L00iafzC_3A/TyeNzCNC4xI/AAAAAAAAGZE/CX0KVqLzSC8/s1600/DSC03215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L00iafzC_3A/TyeNzCNC4xI/AAAAAAAAGZE/CX0KVqLzSC8/s640/DSC03215.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vZ61yvfqq6s/TyeOKfyCC_I/AAAAAAAAGZM/98_PTO1v0Fk/s1600/DSC03216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vZ61yvfqq6s/TyeOKfyCC_I/AAAAAAAAGZM/98_PTO1v0Fk/s640/DSC03216.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Baby didn't want her picture taken&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R40_dLVWR-w/TyeOj-SjftI/AAAAAAAAGZU/IirNhvuljm0/s1600/DSC03221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R40_dLVWR-w/TyeOj-SjftI/AAAAAAAAGZU/IirNhvuljm0/s640/DSC03221.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Finally got her.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AuaoCvGtGl8/TyeO8AmFjZI/AAAAAAAAGZc/J4pC0bOLt3w/s1600/DSC03225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AuaoCvGtGl8/TyeO8AmFjZI/AAAAAAAAGZc/J4pC0bOLt3w/s640/DSC03225.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here's the intense look as she rides her rocking horse&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZY_itqfSxvg/TyePZEySleI/AAAAAAAAGZk/X2YTVmoJ0dE/s1600/DSC03234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZY_itqfSxvg/TyePZEySleI/AAAAAAAAGZk/X2YTVmoJ0dE/s1600/DSC03234.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is the other thing we love around here, the rocking horse is right up there with the rocking chair and the trampoline&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Good night. I'm going to bed... again... been there all day... aw who am I kidding, I am still in bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I love laptops.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-1922789956672130127?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q1NKICCO6-qVngvl3LiTLbabkHk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q1NKICCO6-qVngvl3LiTLbabkHk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q1NKICCO6-qVngvl3LiTLbabkHk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q1NKICCO6-qVngvl3LiTLbabkHk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/oYKvteo1hWY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/1922789956672130127/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=1922789956672130127&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/1922789956672130127?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/1922789956672130127?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/oYKvteo1hWY/ive-been-sick-all-day.html" title="I've been sick all day..." /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nRkZ0tTum5s/TyeM0TyD9-I/AAAAAAAAGY0/I_6ni-F7wR4/s72-c/DSC03206.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/ive-been-sick-all-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcFR3gzfip7ImA9WhRUFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-5268225122519758270</id><published>2012-01-27T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T10:40:16.686-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-27T10:40:16.686-07:00</app:edited><title>No Room at the Inn</title><content type="html">This house is so crowded and packed with stuff that my dad has no where else to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DlPUThyVKfU/TyLhAW1DKJI/AAAAAAAABhk/ppPTfSmZePY/s1600/DdAslpNCntr.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DlPUThyVKfU/TyLhAW1DKJI/AAAAAAAABhk/ppPTfSmZePY/s640/DdAslpNCntr.jpeg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I've heard counters are good for your back... I just hope he doesn't wake up too quickly or he's gonna have a nice ding on that head of his...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just kidding... my mom flooded the counter and we had to take everything off of it to wipe up all the water and we were just enjoying how clean it was while we were talking. I guess my dad decided he was tired of our conversation but, still wanted the company so he just made himself comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm tellin' ya, my dad is full of surprises!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-5268225122519758270?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bCXyYHpg4WCxcFRVjBTFq48zMqQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bCXyYHpg4WCxcFRVjBTFq48zMqQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/M3OW6rjboMM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/5268225122519758270/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=5268225122519758270&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/5268225122519758270?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/5268225122519758270?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/M3OW6rjboMM/no-room-at-inn.html" title="No Room at the Inn" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DlPUThyVKfU/TyLhAW1DKJI/AAAAAAAABhk/ppPTfSmZePY/s72-c/DdAslpNCntr.jpeg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/no-room-at-inn.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UDRnc5fip7ImA9WhRUFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-6243790935685846904</id><published>2012-01-26T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T07:47:57.926-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T07:47:57.926-07:00</app:edited><title>Hammock Hero</title><content type="html">There are a few things I miss about having my own house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One is the kids hammock we had hanging from the ceiling in the storage/therapy room downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That hammock was a life saver.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sister falls apart... hammock.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sister can't calm down... hammock.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sister needs a transition point... hammock.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Baby always wanted to join her just because she enjoyed it so much and the extra pressure for Sister when Baby would be on her actually added to the therapy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So while here at my mom's where there is no room for the hammock, we wrap up in a blanket (to simulate the wrap of the hammock) and we rock on the small, creaky rocking chair in the family room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course Baby has to join in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mom got such a kick out of all 3 of us piled on this little rocking chair so she took a few pictures on her phone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hvVnxCj0cWk/TyFnEX0_V3I/AAAAAAAABhM/rxSrE0TeNPo/s1600/2+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hvVnxCj0cWk/TyFnEX0_V3I/AAAAAAAABhM/rxSrE0TeNPo/s640/2+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
I was a bit early so I waited in the parking lot with Baby while she snarfed a sucker and I checked my email on my phone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Out of the corner of my eye I saw an older white truck pull up in the stall next to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was our good friend Andrew.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Andrew is everyone's friend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And if he isn't you want to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He is the janitor at Brother's school and a good friend to all the kids there. Andrew gets quite a kick out of watching Brother play horses down the halls and at recess and always asks Brother what kind of horse he is that day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Andrew is one of the most down to earth gentleman cowboys I have ever known.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He saw I was waiting in my car and came to say "hello."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We got chatting about various things and eventually the conversation turned to my kids.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I began telling him about how I feel so bad because I don't serve people anymore like I used to. That I miss taking meals to people, helping people with cleaning or organizing, or just remembering to write a little note telling them what a great example they are or what a great job they do on something, etc, etc. I proceeded to tell him that I am just so consumed by my own kids that I can't seem to muster up the time or energy to serve much anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He looked at me and asked, "Did you know you serve one of my good friends everyday?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was trying to think of who I had done something good for that was friends with Andrew and thenk it quickly clicked...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Brother.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He was referring to my son.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His friend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rFtFX5yVrdg/TyAu0wQhKxI/AAAAAAAABhE/IHTLttRTJ3w/s1600/Brother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rFtFX5yVrdg/TyAu0wQhKxI/AAAAAAAABhE/IHTLttRTJ3w/s1600/Brother.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;photo by &lt;a href="http://pointedigital.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Pointe Digital&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It took some effort to keep the tears from starting because I had never thought of it that way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am serving.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you Andrew for your words of inspiration and wisdom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-9093919533434585306?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Can you guess what it is?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's a phone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had torn some kind of cardboard something-or-other and as I was throwing it away in the trash bag she began screaming. I figured out that she was crying for the two cardboard pieces I had in my hand. When I handed them to her she was elated and was "piecing" them together until she came up with this...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love the imagination of children.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love what can be created with cardboard boxes of all shapes and sizes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I was a kid my mom was able to finagle some large refrigerator or washing machine boxes and boy oh boy could we make the best cardboard houses ever. (We also built some great hay huts, but that is a whole other post.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had a really large box from our 42 inch TV that we moved here to my mom's and the kids went to town with that after Marc and my mom cut out some windows and doors. When the cousins came over it was, again, a hit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Imagination rocks!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And for me, as a mother of 3 children with the world's most common cause of inherited mental impairment and the most common known single gene cause of autism, it is miraculous and appreciated to see my children use their imaginations.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It makes my heart leap to see such a developmental milestone that many take for granted become a staple for my children's play.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Can imagination be called miraculous?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In my house it can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-3448584472050650961?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Part of the reason I haven't been blogging regularly. These swirling thoughts of Fragile X Syndrome, motherhood, being a wife, being in limbo between homes, the anxiety of my life and the thoughts of my children are all trying to find a place to settle in my head until I can sort through them all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;My heart is full.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have great family all around me that support me. Friends surround me. The gospel inspires me and my surroundings are full of grandeur.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;My body is tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel young but my body doesn't seem to keep up with all my aspirations to play sports like I did as a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;My gut keeps telling me I am doing all that I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a lot that I have done at the end of each day and I convince myself that that is enough.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;My guilt keeps telling me I haven't done enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have failed in leading our local Fragil X Association to it's fullest potential. I can't seem to find all the time I need to do everything I should for my children's development and betterment. I can't keep everyone happy no matter what decisions I make and it weighs on my heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;My head reminds me that I don't have to make everyone happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As long as I can encourage my children's happiness that is all that matters to me, and that, in turn, makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;My genetics tell me that everything is working against me and my children and our future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I worry about whether &lt;a href="http://www.fragilex.org/fragile-x-associated-disorders/fxtas/" target="_blank"&gt;FXTAS&lt;/a&gt; will end up affecting me and to what point will it affect the care of my children. Who will take care of them when Marc and I are gone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;"&gt;My faith tells me not to give up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And that's what keeps me moving forward...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-8491057470030638774?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E60b4E4EgoAOb6MV23_mpS7cUnc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E60b4E4EgoAOb6MV23_mpS7cUnc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/4SJty7d4znc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/8491057470030638774/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=8491057470030638774&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/8491057470030638774?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/8491057470030638774?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/4SJty7d4znc/colorful-swirl-of-random-thoughts.html" title="A colorful swirl of random thoughts" /><author><name>Rachael</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9DEXkSYYwuk/TfFkvpRK-5I/AAAAAAAAGNo/CacdwwhWmik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/colorful-swirl-of-random-thoughts.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QDQ3o8eyp7ImA9WhRUEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-7572105796752895684</id><published>2012-01-19T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T23:36:12.473-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-19T23:36:12.473-07:00</app:edited><title>Once there was a snowman</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V4Zbk08q520/TxkJy618gkI/AAAAAAAABg0/UtMUPXGyJL4/s1600/DSC03091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V4Zbk08q520/TxkJy618gkI/AAAAAAAABg0/UtMUPXGyJL4/s640/DSC03091.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Doesn't looking at him just make you smile?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My uncle tells us that we should take it down and stop inviting the snow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If he is right that this sweet faced little decoration could bring snow then we will leave it up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am starting to think that our seasons are rotating places. It hasn't snowed much at all this "winter."&amp;nbsp; It feels more like a "winger," "sprinter," or a "win-sprin."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I like the snow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't like driving in it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I liking sledding in snow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't like sliding on it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I guess this snowman is all there will be for now, until our big storm comes in this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe this snowman will get a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-7572105796752895684?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MT6pDKVK8HAnlZo32MW2CVYz2Ko/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MT6pDKVK8HAnlZo32MW2CVYz2Ko/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/VuVE7jpN7CQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/7572105796752895684/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=7572105796752895684&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/7572105796752895684?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/7572105796752895684?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/VuVE7jpN7CQ/once-there-was-snowman.html" title="Once there was a snowman" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V4Zbk08q520/TxkJy618gkI/AAAAAAAABg0/UtMUPXGyJL4/s72-c/DSC03091.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/once-there-was-snowman.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8GQH4_fyp7ImA9WhRUEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-6157970299473217581</id><published>2012-01-19T08:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T23:27:01.047-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-19T23:27:01.047-07:00</app:edited><title>I gotta feelin'</title><content type="html">This whole move started with a feeling in my heart that I knew our family was supposed to make a change.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As things progressed and we sold our house within 5 days in a market the way it is, I just "knew" that our short sale home we had an offer on would be ours by the time we had to move out of our house. After all, I had a good feeling and everything else was falling into place.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As our move-out date drew nearer I could see that moving from one house to another of our own was not going to happen. I had warned my parents a few times that we may have to move in with them until we had a house but, I assured them it would only be for a month at the most.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So when we were packing up to move that weekend, it felt so weird knowing we were just in interim and didn't have anything of our own. I felt kind of lost. It's weird to go from owning a home for 13 years of our 15 year marriage and then moving in with my parents. We had never lived with either of our parents. It felt weird to know we were relying, so profoundly, on my parents to give us a place to stay for our family of 5.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The day we moved we had so many people come to help that it was almost overwhelming. Not because of all the people, but because of all the love we felt from so many in our ward (a ward is an area of people who combine to make a congregation in the LDS church) and neighborhood. I was amazed at the ladies from the Relief Society who came to clean my house in preparation for the new family to move in. There was a LOT of work to be done and they did it. I think that I stood there, mostly in amazement and dazed stupor as everyone worked so hard on our behalf.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We moved some of our necessities to my parents and they were all smiles as we moved all our things in. It is crowded but, definitely do-able.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our family spent one last Sunday at church with our ward that we were leaving and that was absolutely, hands down, the hardest part.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I cried a lot saying goodby to my comfort zone and circle of friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I started feeling a bit hopeless and confused as to why I was leaving such a wonderful life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nothing seemed sure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the primary kids that I teach music to every Sunday made me a blanket with their hand prints on it and their names. The Primary Presidency gave it to me and said that this blanket was so that I would remember them and know that they had their hands around me giving me one big hug.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then I sobbed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the kids gathered around me and waited for hugs. The spirit was so strong in those kids.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then I blubbered.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I got "home" I felt a peace come over me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This was so hard to leave my comfort zone but, I still knew in my heart that what we are doing is the right choice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Things here have been going so much better than I ever could have hoped in my wildest dreams.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My kids, by default of Fragile X, have a VERY hard time with change and transition. I thought that the whole time we were here would be a mess of night wakings, tantrums, fall-aparts, and melt-downs everyday, all day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have had very few.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Quite miraculous if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EGUfyWf5gjQ/TxgtT9wXpEI/AAAAAAAABf8/9svnOwrkq9M/s1600/DSC02936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EGUfyWf5gjQ/TxgtT9wXpEI/AAAAAAAABf8/9svnOwrkq9M/s640/DSC02936.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XbWhacT4QUU/TxgtsLhyEfI/AAAAAAAABgE/0VZi59vHJLc/s1600/DSC02948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XbWhacT4QUU/TxgtsLhyEfI/AAAAAAAABgE/0VZi59vHJLc/s640/DSC02948.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Brother is right at home singing everyday&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lBf4otWLdJc/Txgv8X-zOOI/AAAAAAAABgs/s1qe6Zupgdw/s1600/DSC02960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lBf4otWLdJc/Txgv8X-zOOI/AAAAAAAABgs/s1qe6Zupgdw/s640/DSC02960.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WQTz1WnySEM/TxguKdphCxI/AAAAAAAABgM/sw3qXaqMJsY/s1600/DSC02949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WQTz1WnySEM/TxguKdphCxI/AAAAAAAABgM/sw3qXaqMJsY/s640/DSC02949.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;our room&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-67Kk3WJTg/Txgve_rH37I/AAAAAAAABgk/ry8BcfsqZfk/s1600/DSC02953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-67Kk3WJTg/Txgve_rH37I/AAAAAAAABgk/ry8BcfsqZfk/s640/DSC02953.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Marc likes to help&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U4NRBQXDKPk/TxgumXJIA6I/AAAAAAAABgU/U-z9R8Dom-M/s1600/DSC02950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U4NRBQXDKPk/TxgumXJIA6I/AAAAAAAABgU/U-z9R8Dom-M/s640/DSC02950.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;all the kids sleep in the toy room - they aren't complaining...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-59DgPEIBASw/TxgvFEAdrdI/AAAAAAAABgc/tRFVTNGc_XY/s1600/DSC02952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-59DgPEIBASw/TxgvFEAdrdI/AAAAAAAABgc/tRFVTNGc_XY/s640/DSC02952.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;the crowded kitchen&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know Heavenly Father has a plan for us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just have to keep holding to that good feeling I had that started this whole ball rolling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is a test of my faith.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A test of my belief in Heavenly Father's love for me and my family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My parents have had the unique opportunity of getting to know my children on an entirely different level and they are loving it. It has given them a new-found perspective of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We went to my mom and dad's ward this last Sunday and we were welcomed with open arms. My kids were so welcomed in that they did exceptionally well and I was beyond impressed that we all made it through without any melt-downs. In fact, Brother went to all his classes on his own and was so proud of himself. Sister went to her classes and only needed me for the last 15 minutes. Baby didn't want to leave her class because she was enjoying it so much. I got to sit with my best friend from childhood who is also living with her mom for a time. I felt like I was a kid again seeing people I had grown up with. I was also reminded what a loving ward it is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Marc was not there with us because he was in our old ward to serve one last time as 2nd counselor in the Bishopric and to train his replacement. I am excited for the new counselor. I know he will do an outstanding job and his family will be so blessed during his time of service.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Marc has felt a little lost without his calling. I can see that his concern for the members of the ward are still with him and it is hard for him to let go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, again, we both take comfort and solace in knowing that we are doing the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wish I could put all my feelings into words but, it is so hard to express everything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So in summation of our situation:&lt;br /&gt;
-We are still waiting on our short sale and it has even had a bit of a hiccup in the process with listing agents changing but it should work in our benefit.&lt;br /&gt;
-We are having so much fun here.&lt;br /&gt;
-My kids are doing well.&lt;br /&gt;
-I am a little tired of driving such a long distance to take the kids to their schools everyday.&lt;br /&gt;
-But, they are both doing VERY well in school.&lt;br /&gt;
-We may be here for more than a month (insert laugh here)&lt;br /&gt;
-We are going to Florida in 2 1/2 weeks&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yep, you read it right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why not?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have no house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why not go have a good time at my brother's place in Florida while we are waiting this whole short sale thing out?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Woo hoo!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a feeling we are going to have a lot of fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-6157970299473217581?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2-QSaybm-nW64h3vDovLCDTRFFA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2-QSaybm-nW64h3vDovLCDTRFFA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2-QSaybm-nW64h3vDovLCDTRFFA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2-QSaybm-nW64h3vDovLCDTRFFA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/D0Ke_VSY1Z0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/6157970299473217581/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=6157970299473217581&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6157970299473217581?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6157970299473217581?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/D0Ke_VSY1Z0/i-gotta-feelin.html" title="I gotta feelin'" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EGUfyWf5gjQ/TxgtT9wXpEI/AAAAAAAABf8/9svnOwrkq9M/s72-c/DSC02936.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-gotta-feelin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEHQH8_eyp7ImA9WhRVFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-8480291322356138680</id><published>2012-01-15T00:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T00:30:31.143-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T00:30:31.143-07:00</app:edited><title>My Husband is a model</title><content type="html">...for my camera&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe you could say he is my guinea pig.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Either way...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;he's hot.&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6PkOEF3iUY/TxJ9wZQBuUI/AAAAAAAABfk/ZBgsvOHhTE4/s1600/DSC02999+MarcCoolEdit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6PkOEF3iUY/TxJ9wZQBuUI/AAAAAAAABfk/ZBgsvOHhTE4/s1600/DSC02999+MarcCoolEdit.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2XkcjFzlyoI/TxJ-4t0KBZI/AAAAAAAABfs/tr0hclPgAWU/s1600/DSC03002+marcsunglasses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2XkcjFzlyoI/TxJ-4t0KBZI/AAAAAAAABfs/tr0hclPgAWU/s1600/DSC03002+marcsunglasses.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKb9xB6xSnI/TxJ_zvOPFfI/AAAAAAAABf0/RsfuTvGxndI/s1600/DSC03004+DeSoto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKb9xB6xSnI/TxJ_zvOPFfI/AAAAAAAABf0/RsfuTvGxndI/s1600/DSC03004+DeSoto.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; and the old DeSoto doesn't look too bad either&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-8480291322356138680?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bITP3o27VpvFoOEPMFWfseSAxKc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bITP3o27VpvFoOEPMFWfseSAxKc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bITP3o27VpvFoOEPMFWfseSAxKc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bITP3o27VpvFoOEPMFWfseSAxKc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/I2PUTOH7YKk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/8480291322356138680/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=8480291322356138680&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/8480291322356138680?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/8480291322356138680?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/I2PUTOH7YKk/my-husband-is-model.html" title="My Husband is a model" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6PkOEF3iUY/TxJ9wZQBuUI/AAAAAAAABfk/ZBgsvOHhTE4/s72-c/DSC02999+MarcCoolEdit.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-husband-is-model.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EGRns9eCp7ImA9WhRVFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-6582663127146143214</id><published>2012-01-14T00:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T00:20:27.560-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-14T00:20:27.560-07:00</app:edited><title>Baby wants an apple!!!</title><content type="html">I am beyond ecstatic to be able to announce that, today, after eating Grandma Judy's homemade chicken noodle soup, Baby pointed to an apple sitting on the counter and said "A wa apple."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Apple!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She not only said apple (very clearly)...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but she was requesting something she wanted using a word!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And it was a 3 word phrase (if you count the "a" and the "wa" which interprets to be "I want")&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, when my mom requested, Baby said "apple" at least 3 more times!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was so excited when, about 3 or 4 days ago, she started saying, "hep" when she was stuck on Brother's bunk bed ladder, or couldn't get down off the kitchen stool.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now she is giving a total of 2 requests!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are making progress people!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Real progress!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-6582663127146143214?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aY7fmz_hwk3afcsNh6EPyU7o24U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aY7fmz_hwk3afcsNh6EPyU7o24U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aY7fmz_hwk3afcsNh6EPyU7o24U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aY7fmz_hwk3afcsNh6EPyU7o24U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/YwxKL_Vjh0E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/6582663127146143214/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=6582663127146143214&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6582663127146143214?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6582663127146143214?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/YwxKL_Vjh0E/baby-wants-apple.html" title="Baby wants an apple!!!" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/baby-wants-apple.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4CSHk6fip7ImA9WhRVE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-2799776282873622140</id><published>2012-01-11T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T22:59:29.716-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-11T22:59:29.716-07:00</app:edited><title>Before the move, there was the New Year</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ikQ2TCbBrz0/Tw5ckJKYCcI/AAAAAAAABeQ/RrmRZZNxIuQ/s1600/DSC02804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ikQ2TCbBrz0/Tw5ckJKYCcI/AAAAAAAABeQ/RrmRZZNxIuQ/s640/DSC02804.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My dad and Kirsten show just how special the family party was the day of New Year's Eve.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My dad's side of the family has been having a Christmas party around New Years for the last ... hmm... I don't know, 6 years and it is a tradition we look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This year my aunt Kelly was in charge and we had a salad and pasta bar. Mmmm hmm. It was a great idea. I tried to get a picture of her but she was always hard at work in the kitchen and was avoiding my camera at all costs...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, here are some other ones I got:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sCafuuTlnCI/Tw5c7J8Ed2I/AAAAAAAABeY/-mtTYm4BCw0/s1600/DSC02822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sCafuuTlnCI/Tw5c7J8Ed2I/AAAAAAAABeY/-mtTYm4BCw0/s640/DSC02822.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;What's a Christmas party without chocolate and kids? And what's a great photo without chocolate on a kid?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PJ4GlIWR_wY/Tw5dRTm1rTI/AAAAAAAABeg/_EQbls_Rjb8/s1600/DSC02823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PJ4GlIWR_wY/Tw5dRTm1rTI/AAAAAAAABeg/_EQbls_Rjb8/s640/DSC02823.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This was one of the only clean spots on him after he got done attacking the chocolate.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7WYI0kgnvsY/Tw5dtz105TI/AAAAAAAABeo/AKbKwfB5O4Y/s1600/DSC02838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7WYI0kgnvsY/Tw5dtz105TI/AAAAAAAABeo/AKbKwfB5O4Y/s640/DSC02838.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cute little Ya-ya&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QgaDYdWCfWo/Tw5eJtbyHlI/AAAAAAAABew/b5oKNsmTkQ4/s1600/DSC02846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QgaDYdWCfWo/Tw5eJtbyHlI/AAAAAAAABew/b5oKNsmTkQ4/s640/DSC02846.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am still practicing with my camera and I was trying out the whole focus/blur thing. I was having fun.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7KKDwnBx8I/Tw5ee3Se6PI/AAAAAAAABe4/WddOyQffLO8/s1600/DSC02861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="394" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7KKDwnBx8I/Tw5ee3Se6PI/AAAAAAAABe4/WddOyQffLO8/s640/DSC02861.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;After we ate we plaid basketball and Brother was having a blast and even made a few shots!!&amp;nbsp; He LOVES basketball!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ic0j-0KZajI/Tw5e7hIk--I/AAAAAAAABfA/xs9BnS1EXL4/s1600/DSC02900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ic0j-0KZajI/Tw5e7hIk--I/AAAAAAAABfA/xs9BnS1EXL4/s640/DSC02900.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is how the kids helped clean up... they stayed out of our why while we cleaned.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nrDJDh87Gnw/Tw5fVgVAhQI/AAAAAAAABfI/PqJmhOpdkZk/s1600/DSC02913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nrDJDh87Gnw/Tw5fVgVAhQI/AAAAAAAABfI/PqJmhOpdkZk/s640/DSC02913.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The were moving so fast his hair was blowing in the wind... OK, not really. He just has messy hair.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gC_FobeSSmY/Tw5gSzXTqaI/AAAAAAAABfY/hSZgx7Etlgg/s1600/DSC02931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gC_FobeSSmY/Tw5gSzXTqaI/AAAAAAAABfY/hSZgx7Etlgg/s1600/DSC02931.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;We went and played games and ate at Marc's parents house and of course we played Scrabble! Lynne is always the most competative... tee hee!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SJmDhvCZV1E/Tw5f3TfaO9I/AAAAAAAABfQ/QO3SP817I54/s1600/DSC02930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SJmDhvCZV1E/Tw5f3TfaO9I/AAAAAAAABfQ/QO3SP817I54/s640/DSC02930.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gary had the best of both worlds while playing Scrabble with us and online. Sister thought it was all quite interesting.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-2799776282873622140?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aSGZKqyivB6VV3Jf4fZXmci9974/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aSGZKqyivB6VV3Jf4fZXmci9974/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aSGZKqyivB6VV3Jf4fZXmci9974/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aSGZKqyivB6VV3Jf4fZXmci9974/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/d4AaNvF7Gdw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/2799776282873622140/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=2799776282873622140&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/2799776282873622140?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/2799776282873622140?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/d4AaNvF7Gdw/before-move-there-was-new-year.html" title="Before the move, there was the New Year" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ikQ2TCbBrz0/Tw5ckJKYCcI/AAAAAAAABeQ/RrmRZZNxIuQ/s72-c/DSC02804.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/before-move-there-was-new-year.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIMQHc_eip7ImA9WhRVEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-4328522183553936790</id><published>2012-01-10T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T22:43:01.942-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-10T22:43:01.942-07:00</app:edited><title>Are We Having Fun Yet?</title><content type="html">You know when you tell people that you are living with your parents while you wait for your short sale to come through, I don't think this is what they have in mind...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QsBmIWu_v0Q/Tw0f9HrtemI/AAAAAAAABeI/aSzLqyYIQ9c/s1600/DSCN5323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QsBmIWu_v0Q/Tw0f9HrtemI/AAAAAAAABeI/aSzLqyYIQ9c/s640/DSCN5323.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And you all thought I got my sense of humor from my mom... pppffth... we had you fooled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6yahj844_z4/Tw0fx_25WaI/AAAAAAAABeA/nlZPY7KovH4/s1600/DSCN5321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6yahj844_z4/Tw0fx_25WaI/AAAAAAAABeA/nlZPY7KovH4/s640/DSCN5321.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We are all having a good time, warts and all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's only been 5 days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wonder if my dad will put on the rose colored glasses later...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xUwCKc_aazI/Tw0fVbVmc0I/AAAAAAAABd4/NZKW3ja5Hl0/s1600/DSCN5320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xUwCKc_aazI/Tw0fVbVmc0I/AAAAAAAABd4/NZKW3ja5Hl0/s640/DSCN5320.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-4328522183553936790?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NafVQdTNxh2hJe6qN7ljLJITuxc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NafVQdTNxh2hJe6qN7ljLJITuxc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/B-51yFMklPA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/4328522183553936790/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=4328522183553936790&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/4328522183553936790?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/4328522183553936790?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/B-51yFMklPA/are-we-having-fun-yet.html" title="Are We Having Fun Yet?" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QsBmIWu_v0Q/Tw0f9HrtemI/AAAAAAAABeI/aSzLqyYIQ9c/s72-c/DSCN5323.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/are-we-having-fun-yet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYARHwyfSp7ImA9WhRVEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-4237283651688901786</id><published>2012-01-09T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T23:15:45.295-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T23:15:45.295-07:00</app:edited><title>Duck! Before we move...</title><content type="html">I just couldn't help myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had to pull one last gag before we moved.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I found these toward the end of cleaning out everything from our house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They are real.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, not alive. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They are stuffed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mom got them at a yard sale.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just had to have them so I could use them on our friends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think they have been under my bed for about 2 years just awaiting the perfect opportunity to present themselves in our friends' yard. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Moving day was the perfect day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It snowed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I even made little tracks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They looked so cute.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
See...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h4ApgKCcZqs/TwvWtZcfIdI/AAAAAAAABdw/78TCL-k_4ek/s1600/duckjoke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="468" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h4ApgKCcZqs/TwvWtZcfIdI/AAAAAAAABdw/78TCL-k_4ek/s640/duckjoke.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Tee hee hee! How funny is that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What would you think if you saw two little ducklings sitting on your back porch railing?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know I had a good laugh putting them there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks for letting me have one last hoorah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-4237283651688901786?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GIgSNR4GGzG27kt1lsx7E4p_MaU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GIgSNR4GGzG27kt1lsx7E4p_MaU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/zw8O-bZGiKs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/4237283651688901786/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=4237283651688901786&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/4237283651688901786?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/4237283651688901786?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/zw8O-bZGiKs/duck-before-we-move.html" title="Duck! Before we move..." /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h4ApgKCcZqs/TwvWtZcfIdI/AAAAAAAABdw/78TCL-k_4ek/s72-c/duckjoke.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/duck-before-we-move.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAGRH49eyp7ImA9WhRWGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-6864098547494488579</id><published>2012-01-06T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T09:52:05.063-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-06T09:52:05.063-07:00</app:edited><title>My time to cry</title><content type="html">&lt;i&gt;flashback 8 1/2 years ago&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
"I can't believe this is ours! This is where we'll retire. This is where our kids will grow up."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our life was so different then; August of 2003: one child of our own, Brother, and our niece, Kelsey and our nephew, Bryan, and our horse, Golden.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since then this house has seen 1 broken shoulder, 1 broken hand, 2 oxygen tanks, 2 apnea monitors, 2 billi-light beds, 3 sprained ankles, 3 Fragile X Syndrome diagnosis, 3 new family members, 3 less family members,  6 chickens come and go, 6 horses, 3 goats, 2 horses' deaths, 1 goat's death, 2 Proms, 4 Homecomings, 46 birthday parties, 1 amazingly huge neighborhood 40th birthday bash, 2 brand new baby girls, 4 trees planted then dug-up and replanted at least 3 times each, 2 garden spots, and countless numbers of friends, family, laughs, tears, struggles, triumphs, successes, failures, and memories.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last night was the last night in our home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today is the last day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How do you say goodbye to a home, not just a house, but, a home?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess you don't, you just have to say "farewell" knowing that it is going to bring memories for another family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For the last several months (long before we knew we were going to move) Sister kept saying, "I wanna go home" even when were here at home. I didn't really wonder why because I just figured it was her way of expressing that she was having a hard time with a transition or situation at that moment and that was her way of saying she didn't feel comfortable. But, maybe, just maybe, she has felt that sense that it was time for us to find a new home, a new place to make memories.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we drove the kids by the house we have made an offer on (and are still waiting on because it is a short sale) they got so excited and haven't stopped talking about it since.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I knew this transition would be hard for them, and I know there are still going to be many tough times ahead of us with all the transitions and changes that are about to occur.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I actually fear those moments.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope I will know how to handle them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Right now they have been having a hard time at night, not wanting to sleep, waking up earlier than usual or just generally acting out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have basically ignored them while I have been packing for the move and I feel like a bad mom for it. I should be stressing on all their transitional needs and developmental play, but instead, I pack, and pack, and pack. I have been packing for a month and I still feel like I am in a sea of stuff that I can't believe I have collected over the years.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I already feel like a bad mom because of all the things I don't do and now I am taking my children (who don't transition well) away from familiar surroundings, good friends, amazing teachers and schools, and the most amazing community.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is tough.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yet, I know with all my heart this is the right thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am going to miss this home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, I am excited for the new adventure in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We bought this home when Our Life was taking an entirely different direction. Our goals were different. Our outlook was different. Our family schematics were different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's time for the next chapter to Our Life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love the next chapter. It makes me feel like I am moving forward in the book, getting close to the reason I started the book in the first place; to find out how it all unfolds and then comes together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am excited to see how this adventure of selling our house in 5 days, moving out after having put it up for sale only a month ago, not having a house to move into, moving in with my parents while we wait to have a house to move into, moving with children with Fragile X Syndrome, and moving to be close to Marc's work. Sounds like a good chapter, I am excited to be part of the unfolding.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, that doesn't mean I don't get to cry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am crying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For the first time since this all happened, I am actually shedding tears.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am sure I will continue to shed more tears as I take down the last family picture off the wall, move the last item from our house, say goodbye to friends as they help us move, drive away with the last load knowing this is not my home anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's sad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am scared for what happens next.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope that the author of my story has a great chapter set up for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess I will do my best to co-author and make sure it heads the direction we are hoping...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(smile)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-6864098547494488579?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hvW6abE_p0XdmAnazYuD9BYrooA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hvW6abE_p0XdmAnazYuD9BYrooA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~4/pDlto7aepsY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/feeds/6864098547494488579/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3637976725175049589&amp;postID=6864098547494488579&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6864098547494488579?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3637976725175049589/posts/default/6864098547494488579?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/MduDD/~3/pDlto7aepsY/my-time-to-cry.html" title="My time to cry" /><author><name>Marc and Rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="29" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9zosoHOwBA/Te-kWTgq7XI/AAAAAAAAAs8/P2kLfjSVuik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-06-07%2Bat%2B20.16.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-time-to-cry.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEGQXg9eyp7ImA9WhRWE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-3488519545686619412</id><published>2011-12-30T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T22:17:00.663-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-30T22:17:00.663-07:00</app:edited><title>It's funny what he thinks is sexy</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZshViP8Bpsc/Tv6ZpLhImEI/AAAAAAAAGYs/_A_S2qMJqtQ/s1600/IMG_0955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZshViP8Bpsc/Tv6ZpLhImEI/AAAAAAAAGYs/_A_S2qMJqtQ/s1600/IMG_0955.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Marc saw me on the phone and just had to take a picture of me because he said I looked sexy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(insert "girly" giggle here) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How sweet is that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I LOVE being married!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I love being married to Marc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't get me wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We have our trials and arguments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But, it's times like these that help me realize how lucky I am to spend my life with someone who thinks I look great just talking on the phone and just has to have a picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aw.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Love is bliss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And sometimes blind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But, oh, how sweet it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3637976725175049589-3488519545686619412?l=marcandrachael.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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